Chapter 11 - The Financial Verdict
The morning sun poured through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the penthouse suite at Obsidian Point, illuminating my immaculate mahogany desk. The white dress stained with expensive vintage Cabernet the night before had already been discarded into the smart recycling bin, transformed into a dirty memory that needed purging. Today, I chose a sharply tailored charcoal-gray suit, my hair swept up into a sleek, professional chignon that radiated authority and uncompromising power.
On the desk, my smartphone buzzed continuously. The bright screen displayed Caleb’s name—his sixth call since dawn. After glancing at it to register his mounting panic, I took a calm sip of my dark roast coffee, letting the bitterness linger on my tongue before leisurely pressing accept.
"What on earth are you playing at?!" Caleb’s voice erupted through the speaker, thick with panic, humiliation, and furious disbelief. "Do you have any idea how bad things were with Bianca’s family last night? Her parents are threatening to call off the wedding right this second! My tech startup is about to enter its next funding round, and investors are calling me nonstop asking why my engagement party got shut down by venue security! Have you lost your mind? Are you trying to ruin my entire future?!"
I let out a cold, detached laugh, the sound steady and razor-sharp like a blade cutting through thin ice:
"Caleb, it seems you still haven't woken up from your privileged dream. Exactly where do you think the generous funds you squander every month come from? Your luxury high-rise apartment lease, your sports car maintenance, the endless expensive rounds of drinks you buy just to show off to your fiancée’s wealthy family... all of it is drawn directly from my management accounts and legal enterprise profits."
"But I’m your own flesh and blood!" Caleb shrieked, his voice trembling on the edge of helpless hysteria. "You only have one brother! Are you really going to throw away family bonds just because of a spilled drop of wine on a cheap dress?"
May you like
"A spilled drop?" I stood up abruptly, a flash of righteous anger tightening my eyes while my voice remained terrifyingly calm. "Your fiancée poured an entire glass of wine worth hundreds of dollars onto my chest, your future mother-in-law dragged me around like a ragged beggar, and you stood right there, watched it all happen, and deliberately turned your back to look away. You call that family blood? From this exact second onward, your secondary corporate credit card is permanently blocked across the global banking system. Do not ever call this number again."
I firmly pressed the end-call button and instantly added his number to my permanent blacklist. Caleb’s parasitic lifestyle of leeching off his older sister was officially over.
